Hotel Paper
by carrotop24
Summary: When Tristan comes back into Rory's life during the summer she spends with Emily in Europe, Rory tries to deal with the mess she's made with Dean back home and her growing friendship with Tristan. Trory.
1. You and Me and Hartford Makes Three

Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls or the characters or places associated with the show. I also don't own the song "Sleep All Day."

Quote References: "Sleep All Day" is by Jason Mraz and can be found on his album Waiting for My Rocket To Come.

A/N: Hey everyone, I am back (finally!) and I finally have enough time to post what I've been working on. Some background on _Hotel Paper_: I started this story the day after the Season Four Finale. Yes, I know, that was years ago. It begins when Rory leaves Stars Hollow for Europe with Emily and it ends...well you'll just have to see where it ends.

This is the story of Rory's European Summer, and what happened there she has kept a secret from the rest of the town. So basically this is just my idea of a kind of season between 4 and 5. A Season 4.5 if you may. I hope you enjoy.

And P.S., it I am going back to a Trory for a while. Although I did enjoy writing _The Effects of Diamonds and Champagne_, I find that I like to write Tristan just a little bit more than Logan. And in this story, I will try to make their interactions more realistic. As much as I love my older stories, I really kinda made everyone fall head over heels and put them in unrealistic situations. Not here. I promise.

Sorry to ramble, I just haven't had the power of the microphone in a long time! As always, enjoy the story and please feel free to click on the pretty purple button...

Chapter One: You and Me…and Hartford makes Three

"And he knows it's time to make a change here

And time to get away

And he knows it's time for all the wrong reasons

And time to end the pain…"

-Jason Mraz

"Grandma, I thought you told me that Europe would be just you and me," Rory said once they were in the privacy of the elevator.

"What do you mean Rory, it is just you and me."

Rory searched for a polite way to contradict her grandmother. It was their first day in London, England. In fact, they had only landed less than an hour ago. To Rory's surprise Emily Gilmore had already greeted four of her friends in the hotel lobby.

"I didn't know that you were meeting friends here," she said.

"I'm not meeting anyone here," Emily answered, reaching out to press the button for their floor. "What room are we again?"

"Suite 32A," Rory answered, looking at their room card.

"As I was saying, it is just you and me. This hotel just happens to be a very common gathering place for some of my friends from the country club. We all like to give each other tips as to what hotels and restaurants are the best around the world."

Rory nodded, her stomach beginning to feel uneasy with dread. Her mother's words echoed through her mind.

"_Emily is up to something. She has a motive."_

"_No Mom, she doesn't. Grandma just wants to spend the summer with me and show me some of the things that we didn't have the chance to experience when we were in Europe."_

_Lorelai shook her head. "There is so much more to it than that. I hate to break it to you Ror, but she's using you for something!"_

Rory let out an inaudible sigh. She had left Hartford less than twelve hours ago, and already her mother's predictions had come true. But Rory had always known that Emily had selfish motives when she invited her granddaughter to Europe for an entire summer. She was always trying to one-up Lorelai, and taking Rory on a five star tour seemed to be the way to do it. And also there was Richard. Rory was the perfect excuse for Emily to escape her disastrous relationship.

Which, in essence, was the exact way Rory was using her grandmother. Wasn't she running away from Dean? Europe was her excuse, her escape route. Her mind had been racing with questions, guilt, and a longing to see Dean again. That was her first signal that she needed to get out of town. They needed space to sort out what had happened. Because deep down, Rory knew that if she stayed in Stars Hollow, it would only be a matter of time until she slept with him again.

So here she was, standing in the elevator with her grandmother; it had been less than twenty four hours since she had last been with Dean. Knowing that she was equally as guilty for using her grandmother, she accepted that this summer wasn't going to be just Emily and her. It would be Emily, Rory, and Hartford Society.

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His parents had booked a suite. A three bedroom, three bath suite in the most luxurious hotel in the entire city. Why they hadn't just stayed in the estate they owned just half an hour outside the city, he didn't understand. When he had voiced his question his mother had simply replied: "_All of our friends are staying here too."_

_Well if all of you friends jumped off a bridge…_he thought, remembering the cliché his elementary school teachers used to use to discourage peer pressure.

"I wonder why they booked a three room suite," his girlfriend whispered seductively in his ear. "They know that you'll be spending the nights in my room."

He looked at her and smirked playfully. "Not only the nights," he whispered back. "We've both seen London a hundred times before. Screw sightseeing."

"So I can screw you," she whispered back. His smirk grew.

"Tristan, do you have the keys? I can't remember what floor we're on."

Tristan rolled his eyes and let go of Shelly so that he could find the electronic cards that opened the room. Shelly slipped a hand in his pocket and got it for him.

"32 B," she read.

Tristan's father pressed the button labeled 32, and the four members of the Hartford Society started the ascent to their room.

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"Where are you going?"

"I'm bringing my suitcases into my room," Tristan answered.

James Dugrey looked at his son as if he were speaking to a child. "But Shelly is in the other room."

Tristan returned his father's ridiculous glare. "Which is why I am sleeping in this room."

James sighed in exasperation. "You know very well that this room is your mother's."

Understanding dawned on Tristan. "Don't tell me you and your wife won't be sleeping in the same bed tonight," he replied, in mock surprise. "Such a shocker. But you can tell me this, did you only invite Shelly so that you could book a three bedroom suite without causing suspicion among the gossip hungry people whom you call your 'friends?'"

"Enjoy yourself tonight," James answered. "Once the wedding is over, you'll be sleeping in different bedrooms until the end of your days."

"It'll make it easier for me to have my affairs," Tristan answered sarcastically, wanting his father to understand his meaning.

"Now you're thinking like a Dugrey," James replied, slapping his son on the back. He turned and crossed the suite, back towards the area that contained his own room.

Tristan sighed, rolling his eyes, and began to move his luggage into Shelly's room.

"_Once the wedding's over," _his father's voice echoed. The wedding. The damn wedding his mother and Shelly had been planning for months, even though there was no formal engagement. There was no ring, and in Tristan's eyes that meant that there was no engagement. But there was a business agreement between their parents. That apparently equaled an engagement, or a 'betrothal' as his mother and Shelly liked to call it.

Tristan hated that word, both the literal word and the reality that surrounded it. Betrothal was a match made at birth, a fixed engagement made by the parents. Even though he hadn't introduced Shelly to his parents until six months ago, he felt like his parents had been in control of the situation for far longer than he had.

'Betrothal' was also the word Tristan associated with his mother. All of his life, Rosalyn Dugrey had never been part of his life. She was the typical Hartford mother, a wife that brought a son into the world to inherit her husband's millions, or in their case, the Dugrey Billion. Once released from the hospital after birth, Tristan was handed over to a nanny, or as his mother preferred to call her, the Au Pair.

It wasn't until the "betrothal" that Tristan began to see his mother in places other than the Hartford country club. She was suddenly everywhere, with a stack of wedding magazines, books, and sample bouquets in hand.

At first Tristan was amazed and a little pleased that his mother cared enough to invest so much time into this unscheduled wedding. Then he realized that she wanted to plan the 'perfect' wedding, not for Shelly and Tristan's happiness, but to amaze her friends to the point that they would think of her as the best hostess, planner, and mother.

"What are you thinking about Baby?"

Tristan turned and saw Shelly watching him from the doorway of their room.

"I was wondering who won the game today," he answered. Their conversations were never deep and never crossed any emotional boundaries. This was one of his standard cover-ups for when he was thinking about how much he hated his life.

"Men," Shelly said, shaking her head, going back into the room they would now be sharing.


	2. Back to You

Disclaimer: Gilmore Girls and the characters and places associated with Gilmore Girls are not mine. Also, the song "Four" is not mine.

Quote References: "Four" is by Lit and can be found on the album A Place in the Sun. It was written by Jay and Jeremy Popoff

A/N: Thanks for reviewing. I know that the Gilmore Girls section has grown A LOT (and let me tell you, I was pretty surprised to see how many stories there are now since I haven't written in a while.) So thanks you guys for checking mine out. It means a lot :)

Chapter Two: Back to You

It's just another thing she can't get

She doesn't think we're gonna make it

But when I'm home we're sleeping naked

And we pretend that we're in love

Yah

She likes to think that we're in love

-Lit

There was a knock on the door. Tristan stirred.

Another knock. "Tristan, Shelly, are you two still in bed at this hour? The fundraiser starts in less than two hours. You two have to start getting ready."

Tristan groggily opened his eyes. He was staring directly at the clock. 5:14 blinked at him menacingly. He tried to move, and pain shot up his left arm. He turned his head to find the source and noticed Shelly laying on top of it. She always insisted on cuddling, the result of which always ended up with Tristan's arm fast asleep.

"Tristan? Are you in there? You have to get up!"

"I know," he said irritably. He was never a morning person. Or an I-just-woke-up kind of person anyway. Gently, he pulled his arm out from underneath Shelly's sleeping form. She could sleep through anything. His arm tingled as the blood rushed back through his veins. He flexed his arm a couple of times to assist the blood flow and looked back at the clock. 5:16. He didn't need an hour and forty five minutes to get dressed. Even though it was a suit and tie event, he could get ready in less than fifteen. It wasn't like he wasn't used to putting on his suit. He had often joked with his friends that they might as well be living in the north pole because they were dressed like penguins most of the time.

He sat up and scannedthe floor for his boxers. Not seeing them, he pulled back the sheet a little. As he suspected, Shelly was wearing them.

Getting up, he went into the bathroom adjacent to his bedroom. He closed the door behind him and locked it. He wanted a bit of privacy before hob-nobbing with people all night tonight. That included Shelly. Sometimes Tristan just needed his private space.

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Tristan walked into the banquet hall and immediately felt a wave of heat come over him. The hall was crowded; he estimated there were at least three hundred people already in the small room. He longed to loosen his tie; sweat already prickled under his layers of clothing.

"This is wonderful," his mother cooed. "I see that at least half of the DAR members are here. I had no idea that Laura Pratt would be in town."

Tristan scanned the room as well. He definitely recognized the faces of many of the people seated at the tables. He was once again amazed that his mother was rattling off their names as she spotted each "neighbor." Tristan couldn't name five of them.

"Let's find our table," Shelly said, tugging on Tristan's sleeve. "I'm dying of thirst."

The Dugreys and Shelly walked through the room, scanning the empty tables for their name cards. They found their table at the edge of the room next to the tall windows that in daylight overlooked the garden. As it was, the night had already settled in, dark and moonless.

Tristan pulled out Shelly's chair to help her get seated before settling into his own. He immediately reached for the wine bottle sitting on ice to the side of the table. He knew it would be a long night, and the only way to get through it was with a little alcohol in his system. He poured a glass for himself without offering any to the rest of his table. One sip was enough for Tristan who set it back down on the table. Though it had been sitting on ice, it was still too warm for his liking.

"What's that face for?" Shelly asked.

"Wine's warm," he replied.

Shelly nodded and leaned on the table. "This sucks," she said softly so that only Tristan could hear her.

He sighed. "Totally."

"I mean it has to be at least a hundred degrees in this fucking room."

Tristan nodded, but he was distracted. He was looking at the huge windows near their table. Because it was dark out, the windows acted like giant mirrors, reflecting everything that was happening in the room. Tristan began to scan the reflected crowd. Ever since he was little Tristan loved to try to pick out the ugliest outfits people had on. It had always been a way for him to get through the boredom of these events.

He spotted a woman wearing a bright green dress that made her look like a watermelon. He followed her reflection as she crossed the room towards the windows. She took a seat at the table behind him, and Tristan watched their reflections while the people greeted the newcomer, their voices indistinguishable in the noisy hall.

Tristan scanned the faces of the people at the table, watching for their reaction to the bright green dress. He could only see half of their faces, the people whose backs were turned to him still could not be seen. The table was full of women, the Watermelon woman, a woman in dark blue, a woman in black, one in a decent shade of green, and a young woman in a striking shade of pink.

Tristan's heart skipped a beat, and his breath caught. This beautiful girl was familiar; she had been the subject of Tristan's dreams years ago. His heart was beating rapidly now. He had never expected to see her again anywhere, let alone here in London in a room full of debutants. She was gorgeous, even more beautiful than he remembered her.

Taking his eyes off of the window, Tristan reached for his wine glass. The warm wine slid down his throat with ease, and he took comfort in the feeling. _It wasn't her, _he told himself. _She is in Connecticut. She would never be here, with these people. The people that she hates. _He took another sip. _That can't be her. It isn't her. It's just a brunette that looks like her. _Tristan finished up the last sip of wine as his heartbeat returned to it's natural pace.

He had himself convinced that she wasn't Rory Gilmore. Tristan even risked a glance back to the windows to confirm his feelings. But she was gone. The seat was empty.

"Are you okay?" Shelly asked him. "You look kind of…weird."

Tristan looked to the girl sitting to his left. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom."

She nodded and he Tristan walked away, leaving Shelly and the empty chair behind.

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Rory splashed her face with cold water, savoring the relief the water possessed. She was smoldering in her pink satin gown, the layers of fabric suffocating her. The bathroom was cool and quiet, an escape from the noisy banquet hall, and her grandmother. Rory couldn't handle anymore of the women's idle gossip. Since Mrs. Humphrey in the lime green dress had been in Paris for three months, Emily Gilmore and the other women were catching her up on _all_ of the gossip.

She tipped the washroom attendant, and with one deep breath, walked out of the bathroom and back into the loud hall. Rory threw a look over her shoulder to make sure her train didn't catch when the door closed. She didn't see the man until she had already bumped into him.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly.

"No I'm sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going." She drew her eyes from the man's chest to meet his eyes. She found a pair of deep blue ones, wide with surprise, staring back at her.

"I-uh…"

"Hi Mary," he breathed, the familiar name slipping fondly from his lips.

Her face that had been soft with surprise and recognition pinched slightly as her beautiful eyes narrowed. "I see your memory hasn't improved in the past three years."

Tristan, taken aback by her harsh tone, spat back an automatic response.

"You're counting. Have you missed me that much?"

"Hardly," she snorted. "What are you even doing here anyway?"

Tristan spread his arms. "These are my people. The real question is what are you doing here? Is Sleepy Hollow getting too Redneck for you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, it is out in the sticks. I thought that maybe you wanted to come see what civilized people looked like."

"Then I obviously got on the wrong bus. I haven't seen any in here." She walked away.

"Nice seeing you!" Tristan called after her sarcastically. But the truth was, it was nice to see her. It was nicer than anything Tristan had seen in years.


	3. Starting Over

Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore girls or the characters or places associated with the show. I also don't own the rights to the song "I've Just Seen a Face."

Quote references: The song "I've Just Seen a Face" is sung by the Beatles and written by John Lennon and Paul McCartney. It can be found on their album Help!

A/N: I love all of you more than you will ever know. Your reviews mean a lot to me. I hope you like this story, I'm really trying to make Rory and Tristan true to their characters. I love your feedback!

Chapter Three: Starting Over

Had it been another day

I might have looked the other way

And I'd have never been aware

But as it is I'll dream of her tonight…"

-The Beatles

Rory sat back down in her seat, completely agitated.

"Rory darling, are you alright?" Emily asked.

"I'm fine," Rory answered.

"You look upset."

"I just ran into an old classmate that I never really got along with. He's walking proof that some people never mature."

She took a sip of water and allowed her eyes to wander the room. They settled on the table in front of her. She noticed the empty seat and wondered what happened to the man that had been sitting there. She had spent a good ten minutes admiring his hair; blonde and soft and incredibly tempting to run her fingers through. And all at once it hit her- the blonde man was Tristan. She hadn't seen his face because his back was turned to her. But it was just like Tristan to have tempting hair.

Rory noticed that her head was pounding. Her grandmother's voice sounded far away as Rory focused back in on the conversation.

"She won't sign a pre-nup, I have no idea why. So now she is just living with this man. It's been seven years and they have four children together. She knows that if they marry, he'll run away with all of her money. Dreadful isn't it?"

Rory sat there, completely uninterested in the idle gossip. She took another sip of water. The ice had all melted and her glass had begun to drip from the condensation.

Her grandmother turned to her once more, this time speaking quietly so that only Rory could hear her. "Are you sure you're alright dear? You look pale."

Rory nodded. "I think I'm going to go get some fresh air, it's really hot in here."

Once again she stood and crossed the hall, scanning the room for doors that might lead to the garden. She felt light-headed, but brushed it off to the notion that she stood too quickly. The smell of perfume suddenly was overwhelming, the different scents permeating the room made it seem even more imperative to find the exit.

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Tristan made his way towards the garden. He didn't feel like going back to his table and sitting through dinner with his family and Shelly. It would be too much of a challenge, going back there and pretending nothing was wrong. Instead he chose the solitude of the garden where he could sit in the quiet, cool breeze and let his mind mull over the ridiculous conversation he had just held with Rory Gilmore.

Outside he saw her, standing alone, her back to him looking out at the night. He crossed the patio to her, ignoring the voice telling him that going to her now would only make things worse.

"So listen," he said, leaning against a low wall close to where Rory stood. "I'm sorry that I pissed you off earlier."

"You should be," she said, turning around quickly. "I don't like being called a redneck."

"I guess that was uncalled for."

"You guess?"

"I was thrown off guard. I didn't exactly expect for you to snap at me without even a hello."

"I was surprised to see you."

"Well, I was surprised to see you too."

They stood in silence for a minute, not knowing what to say to each other. The tension was thick between them, but each silently took a breath to calm down and attempt to make the best of things.

"So," Tristan said, trying to break their strained silence and prove that he could make appropriate small talk. "What are you doing here anyway? You don't usually roll with my crowd."

"I hate to break it to you, but your crowd has to be the most boring group of people I've ever met."

"Well you left before brandy. That's when they really loosen up. The party isn't started until they start debating politics."

Rory laughed.

"You never answered my question. What are you doing here?"

Rory sighed, trying to think of the reason she was here. To run away? She couldn't tell Tristan that without giving him the whole explanation. And the whole truth about Dean was something she wanted to keep Tristan from knowing at all costs.

"My grandmother wanted me to see Europe 'the right way' this summer. Apparently my backpacking trip last summer doesn't qualify as seeing Europe."

"You went backpacking through Europe?" Tristan asked, in awe. "That is so awesome. I've always wanted to do that. Did you stay in hostels and everything?"

Rory nodded. "I have to say, it was a lot better than this. What about you? What are you doing here?"

"Family vacation. Well, semi family vacation. My brother Mason isn't here, but then again, he never comes. And then there's Shelly. She's not exactly family. Well, my parents already consider her as their daughter-in-law, but that's another story."

Rory listened to him in surprise. A brother and a fiancée? The fiancée she understood, even though it was definitely news, but a brother? In their years at Chilton no one had ever mentioned a Mason Dugrey. Rory was extremely curious about both of these people, but she couldn't decide whom to ask about first.

"Fiancée?" she finally settled. "Are you engaged to… Shelly?"

Tristan rolled his eyes. "Technically, no."

"What do you mean," Rory pushed.

"Listen, I don't want to talk about it."

"You brought it up," she said.

"Please Rory, I asked you to drop it."

"It can't be all that horrible."

"Horrible? If I could, I would end it with her tonight."

"Why don't you?" Rory asked, ignoring the anger growing in Tristan.

"Things aren't that simple."

"Why not? Just tell her she's a great person but you can't make her happy."

"And our fathers?"

"You can't live in fear of your father for the rest of your life."

"I'm not scared of him."

"Then why won't you do what you want to do?"

"Like I said, things aren't that simple."

"Why not?" Rory repeated.

"This is a pointless argument," Tristan said. "We're going in circles."

"Whatever," she answered. "Listen, Tristan. I'm tired."

"And pissed," he added.

"Well yah. I just fail to follow your logic, and I feel like you're not giving me the whole truth, because your story doesn't make any sense."

"I'm the one failing to give you the truth?" he asked, the anger mounting again. "You didn't come to London just to 'see it the right way.' There's another reason. The Mary I know doesn't just enter high society to please her grandmother."

"First of all, you don't know me. And second, I'm not your Mary."

"Fine, maybe that's true. But that's not for the lack of trying." He turned and walked back inside. Rory watched him walk away and shook her head. They couldn't even make small talk without getting in a fight. She couldn't believe how badly he pissed her off.

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"I've been waiting for this all day," Shelly said, pushing him up against the wall. Her hair brushed against his shoulder as she did so.

Her brown, silky hair. So much like Rory's.

Except that Rory's was more beautiful. In fact, everything about Rory was more beautiful.

He pulled away from Shelly.

"What?"

"I'm really tired," Tristan said, walking towards the bed.

"Too tired for me?" she asked.

"Tonight I am."

She looked hurt, but Tristan ignored it. He undressed and got in bed. All he could think about was the fact that Rory Gilmore was somewhere in the hotel. He completely forgot about the girl lying right next to him.


	4. A Giraffe in London

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to Gilmore Girls.

Song References: _#41_ is a Dave Matthews Band song found on their album _Crash._

A/N: I hope everyone is enjoying their weekend. Thanks for the reviews and please keep them coming...

Chapter Four: A Giraffe in London

I will go in this way  
And find my own way out  
I won't tell you to stay  
But I'm coming to much more  
Me  
All at once the ghosts come back  
Reeling in you now  
What if they came down crushing  
Remember when I used to play for all of the loneliness that nobody  
notices now  
I'm begging slow I'm coming here  
Only waiting I wanted to stay  
I wanted to play,  
I wanted to love you  
--Dave Matthews Band

"Well good morning Mary," Tristan said cheerfully when she walked into the quiet dining room. "Would you join us for breakfast?"

"Funny," she said, sarcastically.

Tristan noted how she had stopped at his table. That, at least, was progress. "You don't want to eat all by your lonesome now would you?"

"At the moment, it sounds better than the alternative."

"Excuse me, who are you?"

Rory looked at the young woman, really noticing her for the first time.

"Mary was it?"

"Rory," she replied, trying her best not to make a face at Tristan. "Rory Gilmore."

"I'm Shelly."

"Nice to meet you."

Rory leaned down to shake her hand; Tristan sniggered.

"So how do you two know each other?" Shelly asked, as she sipped her soda. Rory looked at the beverage questioningly, causing Tristan to once more make a sarcastic noise. She glared at him in return.

"We went to high school together," she replied, her eyes not leaving Tristan's.

"Well then, you have to sit. I want to hear all about what Trissy was like back then."

Rory looked at Tristan and smiled. He looked equally horrified by the nickname. She pulled out a chair and sat down. "Well, I do have several good stories about _Trissy _here."

Shelly smiled and scooted her chair closer to Tristan. She rested her head on his shoulder. "So did you guys date or something?"

"No," they both said simultaneously. Tristan's reply was much softer, a hint of emotion present. It passed unnoticed.

"I was too much for her to handle," he joked.

"I had a boyfriend."

"What about that night at Madeline's? You seemed to have forgotten all about him then…" he said, trailing his sentence of suggestively.

Rory rolled her eyes. "We kissed, once. And we both agreed that it was a mistake."

"He's a good kisser, isn't he?" Shelly asked, smiling at him. Rory studied her, amazed that Shelly was not the least bit uncomfortable that a strange girl was reminiscing on the time she kissed her boyfriend.

"Well, am I?" Tristan asked, pulling Rory out of her ponderings.

"You had to ask me if you bit my lip. I think there have been better kisses in the world."

Tristan laughed, remembering the awkward evening. He shook his head, remembering how stupid he had felt later that night. The one thing he had been wanting that whole year had gone so terribly wrong. The memory was still bitter and the regret had never quite vanished. He still flinched thinking about it. Now, having Rory sitting across from him making fun of him made him feel slightly ashamed all over again.

"So did my Trissy have lots of girlfriends, or is that his ego talking?" Shelly asked after taking a long sip of her diet soda.

"Well, considering I could never get to my locker because he was always making out with girls in front of it, I would definitely say that there were a lot of girls. Very few of them actually made it to the girlfriend stage, however."

"Well I guess I feel honored," Shelly said, smiling at Tristan. "I'm not just one of your floozies." She stood up. "I'm going to run to the little girl's room."

Tristan watched as she walked away, and then settled back into his chair and let out a sigh.

Rory noticed and looked at him questioningly, but he was focused on the straw wrapper he was twirling between his fingers.

"That seems like so long ago," Rory said, desperate to ease the tense silence.

Tristan just nodded. His eyes were distant and Rory decided against making more small talk; she had never been particularly good at introducing conversation to break long silences.

A waiter appeared at her side as if on cue, and Rory was grateful for the distraction.

"Could I get you anything Miss?" he asked.

"Oh, I haven't had a chance to look at the menu," she answered, remembering the reason she was here. "But I guess I'll have some orange juice, sausage, three pancakes, and some white toast."

The waiter nodded as he took her order. "And has the other young lady changed her mind?" he asked, directing his question to Tristan.

"No," he said, finally returning from his thoughts. "She'll just have a refill for the Diet Coke."

The waiter smiled. "Your breakfast should be ready in a few minutes."

"Thank you," Rory and Tristan replied.

"So, Shelly's not big on the whole breakfast thing?" Rory asked.

"She's not really big on any meal," Tristan answered. He rolled his eyes. "She says she just doesn't eat carbs, but apparently she needs a definition because she doesn't really eat anything."

"I just don't understand the whole Atkins thing," Rory said. "I basically _only _eat carbs. Even apples have carbs. Not that I eat a lot of apples, but still."

Tristan smiled, thinking of the three pancakes and white toast she had ordered. He had never seen Shelly put one piece of bread to her lips. He felt a deep appreciation for Rory's down to earth food selection.

"So how long are you going to be in London?" Rory asked, deciding to turn back to the small talk.

"I don't know," he said, a hint of aggravation evident in his voice. "My family moves with the herd."

"Meaning…"

"They're sheep. When their group of friends move on to the next function, they follow."

"And you're the black sheep?"

"I guess you could call me that. What about you? You're not even a sheep at all. You're a…giraffe."

"Oh, what a compliment."

"I'm just saying, you stick out."

"The self esteem keeps on rising."

"You're not like them."

"Apparently we live on different continents."

"There are giraffes in the US."

"In zoos," Rory said.

Tristan shrugged and let out a laugh.

"Great, so now I'm a wild beast that belongs in the zoo. Thanks a lot."

"Well, its better than being a monkey, right?"

"You're unbelievable," she said. She sat back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. Once again he was irritating her. She closed her eyes and took a breath, willing herself to stay in a good mood.

Tristan noted her expression and stopped laughing. "Where's your grandmother?" he asked, changing the conversation with ease.

"Upstairs arguing with my mother on the phone," Rory said. She felt a twinge of guilt at the two minute conversation she had with her mother. Breakfast had provided an escape from having to get back on the phone. "That reminds me, I'm supposed to be getting a table for Grandma."

"She can sit here. The more the merrier."

"I hardly think my grandmother would enjoy having breakfast with you," Rory said, not even blinking at her rude comment.

"I can be charming. Adults love me."

Rory rolled her eyes. "That must be a new skill because I don't remember the staff at Chilton falling all over your feet."

"I said adults, not teachers."

Rory and Tristan looked up as Shelly came back to the table. She sat, took another sip of her Diet Coke and smiled. "What are you doing today Rory?"

"I'm not sure. I think my grandmother mentioned something about Westminster Abbey."

"You should come shopping with me and Trissy."

Rory smiled and looked at Tristan. "Trissy likes to shop?"

"I don't-"

"He loves coming with me," Shelly said, interrupting him. She flashed her white smile. "He carries my bags for me. It's _so_ gentlemanly."

Tristan smirked at Rory, his eyes dancing, his face portraying an _I told you so_ sort of look. Rory just rolled here eyes.

"I should go find out what's taking my grandmother so long," Rory said.

"But you ordered breakfast," Tristan pointed up. He was reluctant to let her leave.

"Have them send it up to my room."

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"Rory, I just have to run to Madison Ingalls' house. I promised her months ago that I'd drop in to visit her next time I was in London. You understand, don't you?"

"Of course Grandma," Rory said. She was sitting on a couch in the sitting room flipping through Cosmo, waiting for her breakfast to be brought up.

"Would you like to come? I'm sure she'd love to meet you."

"If you don't mind, I think I'll stay here. I'm still a little tired…"

Emily nodded. "Well, I don't want you overdoing it, we did just get here the other night," she said. "I'll be back later this afternoon and we'll do dinner, okay?"

"Have a nice time," Rory said as Emily walked out of their suite. She settled against the cushions, trying to think of something to do on her own for the day. Nothing came to mind.

There was a knock on the door. "Room service."

Rory rose and answered the door. She looked at the man standing in her doorway with amazement.

"Sorry it took so long."

"Tristan?"

"They brought you bacon, and I specifically remembered you ordering sausage. So I sent it back."

"Thanks, I guess," Rory said, taking the plate. They stood in the doorway for a moment.

"Aren't you going to ask me in? I did come all the way up here for you."

"My mother taught me never to let strange people in when I'm home alone."

"Ah…you're all alone? Where's your grandmother."

_Damn it. _"She went out."

"Out? Will she be back anytime soon?"

"She's gone for the afternoon."

"So you're all alone?"

"We already established that," Rory said. She looked at her plate of food and found that she wasn't even hungry anymore.

"You can come shopping."

"I have a very low tolerance for spending whole days shopping."

"And you think I'm Mr. Enthusiasm?"

"Well, I don't know, Trissy."

He rolled his eyes. "God, please stop."

"You seem to like it when she calls you that."

"I don't like it, I tolerate it."

"Why?"

"Why do you let me call you Mary?"

"I don't let you call me Mary."

"So are you coming or not?"

"I think I'm busy."

"I disagree."

"Why would I go with you?"

"It's better than sitting alone basking in your own misery."

She looked up at him, her brow gathered in a puzzled expression. His statement hit home though. If she were left alone she would just think about Dean. God she missed him. She sighed. "Fine."

"What was that?"

"Yes, I'll go. Let me just get my shoes."

"They better be comfortable," Tristan called after her as she disappeared deeper into the suite. "Shelly can shop for hours!"


	5. Changes

Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls, I never will, so please don't think the characters or places are mine 

Song References: The Only Living Boy in New York is a Simon and Garfunkel song from their album Bridge Over Troubled Water.

A/N: Thank you to all of you who reviewed. It means a lot (wow do I say this every time? hmmm... well it is true.) Sorry it took so long to get this up, ff.n wasn't letting me upload any of my documents so i finally got off my lazy butt and reformatted them...sigh. I hope you guys are all having a nice, relaxing weekend. Read and enjoy!

Chapter Five: Changing

I get the news I need on the weather report.  
I can gather all the news I need on the weather report.  
Hey, I've got nothing to do today but smile.  
Da-n-do-da-n-do-da-n-do here I am,  
The only living boy in New York.  
Half of the time we're gone but we don't know where,  
And we don't know where.  
--Simon and Garfunkel

"I can't believe I've been sitting here for an hour and a half," Rory said as she leaned her head against the wall.

Tristan laughed. "I was thinking the same thing."

"Aren't you used to this?"

"I never let her stay in one place this long."

Rory sighed and folded her arms across her chest. She wished she had thought to grab a book before she left.

Tristan looked over at her and studied her for a moment. She really looked nice. Her face had lost some of the roundness that made her look so young. Her hair was shorter, just below her chin, and it suited her nicely. She was wearing a light blue sundress which accentuated her eyes and her petite body without being revealing or tasteless.

Shelly stepped out of the dressing room. "What do you think?" she asked, twirling around. They examined her from their spots in their chairs. She was wearing a low cut black cocktail dress that looked uncomfortably tight.

"It's…nice," Rory answered politely, avoiding sharing her true opinion that Shelly looked like a slut.

"Yah, it's nice," Tristan added. He didn't like it at all. Sitting next to Rory, he felt ashamed that his girlfriend was modeling these type of dresses for him. It was exactly what Rory expected him to look for in a woman. Something inside made him want to prove her wrong.

"Really? Because I was thinking it is too short," she said, tugging on the hemline.

"Sure," Tristan said, unable to hide the boredom in his voice.

"Tristan," Shelly said sternly. Rory noted how she had abandoned his nickname. "You're just agreeing with everything I say. Stop, okay? I need a true opinion."

"It looks fine," he answered, the boredom in his voice now laced with irritation.

"You know what, if you're not going to help me, you might as well just leave."

"Really?" he asked, sitting up a little.

"Just go. GO!" She heaved an irritated sigh and stalked back into her dressing room, slamming the door behind her.

Tristan's raised his eyebrows a little and offered Rory his hand. "Shall we?"

"Shall we what?"

"Go?"

"Shelly's mad at you."

"She said we could."

"She's testing you," Rory replied.

Tristan merely rolled his eyes. "Come on, we'll get something to eat."

Rory looked around. She was hungry, it would be better than sitting here for another three hours…

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"So Lorelai Leigh," Tristan said as he ate the cookie dough out of his ice cream, "why so quiet?"

Rory looked up from her ice cream, almost surprised to see him sitting there.

"Woah, you're spacey."

"Sorry, I was just…thinking."

"About?"

"Stuff."

"Wow."

"Wow what?"

"Stuff.' That's very intellectual. Do they offer Stuff 101 at Yale?"

"Stop it."

"No, really. You usually think about things like Shakespeare and Tolstoy."

"Just drop it, okay?"

"Not until you tell me what made you look so lost."

It's nothing, she wanted to say. But she couldn't. Her longing to see and speak to Dean was becoming more pronounced with every moment she spent with his arch enemy, Tristan.

"I guess I'm just a little homesick is all," she answered.

"You miss your Bag Boy?" Tristan teased.

Rory's gaze snapped up to Tristan's, and the glimmer of panic in her eyes wiped the smirk off his face.

"No way," he said, his blue eyes curiously searching her own.

She looked down again and twirled her spoon around her ice cream.

"You guys aren't still together, are you?" he asked, though from her expression he knew that he was way off.

Rory remained silent. After all, they weren't technically together, were they? Hadn't she left him to putthousands of milesbetween their relationship?

"Rory," he said softly, her silence startling him. "Just tell me."

"There's nothing to tell."

"Don't try to lie to me, you really suck at it."

"Then maybe I don't feel like telling you."

"I told you about Shelly."

Rory sniggered, "This is completely different."

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?"

She pushed her spoon around the melting mess of ice cream in her cup. She couldn't tell him, not him.

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"What's with you?"

Rory looked up from the pad of paper she was doodling on. "Oh, hi."

"Oh, hi? Is that all I get? You won't even humor me with some snappy reply?"

Rory just sighed and looked back at her notepad. "I'm busy Tristan."

"Busy? With what, writing a love letter to Bag Boy?"

Rory's head snapped up and she fixed him with a startled glare.

Tristan smirked.

"I'm making a list of the places I want to see while I'm in Europe."

Tristan leaned over her shoulder. "You've got to be kidding me."

"What?"

"These places are all museums, or statues, or houses…"

"I like to sight see," Rory answered defensively.

"Didn't you see all of these places last summer?"

Rory shrugged. "Maybe I missed something."

Tristan scanned the list again, one eyebrow raised. "That's doubtful."

"Well, then, what do you suggest I do while my grandmother is at all of her functions?"

"If you stick bye me, Mare, you'll never be bored."

Rory snickered.

"You don't believe me?"

She shrugged. "You and I have very different definitions of fun..."

"Come on," Tristan said, taking her wrist in his hand.

"What?"

"Come on," he repeated.

"Where?"

"We're nineteen years old. I have more money than I will ever be able to spend, and it's our first night in Germany. The world is open to us, Mare. Let's go out and have an adventure?"

" 'Rory, how did you spend your summer vacation?' 'Oh, Professor, I ran around Munich with a boy who has a criminal record.' 'You flew all the way to Germany to do that?' 'Yes Sir, I like to waste my family's money.'"

Tristan rolled his eyes at her role playing. She really was in a bad mood. "Aww, come on, Mary!"

She closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. "Fine. But I'm not… this is a one time thing…"

Rory allowed herself to be pulled out of the chair and led out of the hotel, second guessing her decision the whole time.

A/N: I hope you guys aren't bored. I promise a that there will be a bit more headway next chapter. please review to save my self esteem. haha, wow that sounded pathetic.


	6. Margarita Mary

Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls, I never will, so please don't think the characters or places are mine. It only rubs it in my face that it isn't so, and that makes me sad.

Song References: _Midnight Show_ is a song by The Killers, and it can be found on their album _Hot Fuss_.

A/N: You never cease to amaze me with your amazing dedication to reviewing. Thanks. And sorry it took so long, I didn't get off of work until seven :'(

**photobooth romance: **Thank you for your critique. I worried that a the first few chapters were repetitive and a little bit pointless. I'm glad that you pointed out that it's not just me and that I'm crazy.I hope you keep reading and see that I_do_have a direction and thatthis is the first time I actually had Rory and Tristannotfind themselves together immediately, soI'm still working out the kinks.

Chapter Six: Margarita Mary

Oh crashing tide can't hide a guilty girl  
With jealous hearts that start with gloss and curls  
I took my baby's breath beneath the chandelier  
Of stars in atmosphere  
And watch her disappear  
Into the midnight show...

--The Killers

"Come on, it wasn't _that _bad!"

"They dumped soap suds on us every half hour!"

"Only after eleven o'clock."

"Do you know how filthy that is? I mean, that's how people catch scary diseases. I can't believe the health department allows such a thing."

"Just stick with me, Mare. I'm pretty good at not getting scary diseases."

"Eeew, gross."

"What?"

Rory stopped. "Can you please refrain from ever talking about that ever again? I really did not need to know."

Tristan laughed softly and kept walking. Rory saw a smirk on his face as the passed under a street light. "Well, just in case, you know, something happens between us, we've already cleared the air. I'm clean, I'm assuming you're clean…"

"MY GOD will you stop it?" Rory cried. Tristan just laughed, thrust his hands in his pockets and walked closer to her.

They walked for several minutes in silence, taking in the busy nightlife of Munich.

"So," Rory said at length. "Shelly didn't want to come?"

Tristan scratched the back of his head uncomfortably. "She doesn't know we're out together."

Rory nodded slowly. "Trouble in Paradise?"

"Ha," Tristan laughed quietly. "I could hardly call it paradise."

"Come on, Europe? That's a pretty big step. Isn't it going somewhere?"

Tristan shrugged. "It's an arranged marriage. I've known her for sixth months, and now my parents expect us to get married so that there can be a big business merger and my father can get another chunk of millions to add to his ridiculous fortune."

They rounded a corner and spotted the hotel looming at the end of the block.

"I still don't understand why your parents are making you do this though," Rory said. "Don't they know you're unhappy?"

"Yeah, but to him my unhappiness is worth the fat bank account."

"I'm sorry," Rory said softly.

"Why?"

"Because they're not letting you have the life you deserve to live."

"Thank you."

They reached the hotel. Tristan nodded to the bellboy as he put his hand on the small of her back, gently guiding her inside. The lobby lighting was bright compared to the night. Tristan blinked several times to get used to the change.

"Hey, Mare, do you want to hang out or something?"

She turned to him. "What?"

"I mean, I'm not tired yet. We could just go upstairs, hit the mini bar…"

"Haven't you had enough to drink tonight?"

"Mary, you obviously haven't seen the amazing drinking abilities of Mr. Dugrey."

"Alright Spongebob."

"Spongebob?"

"You know, absorbent and yellow and porous is he…"

"I'm not porous."

"You have 20,000 pores on your face alone."

"Really?"

"Why do you think people hate pimples so much?"

"So do you want to?"

"Want to what?"

"Go upstairs."

"Well my grandmother is asleep in my suite, so we'd have to be quiet."

"And Shelly is upstairs in mine…"

They looked around the empty lobby for a moment, thinking.

"Why don't I just get us a room."

"Get us a room?"

"Do you always repeat everything a person says?" Tristan asked.

"Only when I have no idea what they're talking about. Why would you get us a room."

"It could be our hideout."

"Why do we need a hideout?" she asked.

"Well, I need to get away from Shelly, and I saw that look on your face when your grandmother proposed meeting some of her friends at that restaurant. You could get away too. I'll just put it on my credit card."

"Won't Daddy wonder why you have two rooms in your name?"

"Well if I explained it was for a pretty girl…"

"Tristan, if you make one more suggestion that-"

"Fine, fine. Daddy doesn't read my credit card bills, his accountant does. Come on, I think I can afford it."

"Make sure you ask for a menu at the front desk. I want room service!"

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"Scrambled eggs and a margarita? That's an interesting combination."

"Well, I don't like to drink a lot of different drinks in one night."

"So you're an alcohol monogamist."

"Yes I am." Rory took a long sip, leaving her margarita almost empty.

Tristan watched her as he nursed his own beer, marveling at how relaxed she was becoming. They were sprawled out across the floor, the contents of the mini bar spread out in front of Tristan. Her eyes sparkled and danced in the dim lighting.

"The last time I had a lot to drink, I was packing up my dorm room and wanted to finish off the alcohol. Then my grandma popped by and I almost had a heart attack. She set me up on a blind date with this guy, which totally sucked because he ditched me to hang out with his friends, so I ended up calling Dean to come get me even though he lives in Stars Hollow and I was still in New Haven. But he didn't tell his wife that he was coming to get me, so that's probably where everything went wrong. Huh, I guess I can blame it all on my grandmother."

Tristan listened to her rambling story, his mind racing. Dean had a wife? All he knew for certain was that Rory was getting pretty drunk because she would not have been telling this to him otherwise. He pushed aside the voice in his head that was telling him to drop it.

"Dean's married?"

"Oh yah. To Lindsey. She's a nice girl, but she's not all that bright up here," Rory tapped her head. "I mean, who would really get married like, the week after they graduate from high school? But it was a total rebound thing. They were engaged only a couple months after we broke up. Everybody keeps telling me how wrong it was, but it's not like he loved her anymore. He even took off his ring."

Tristan's heart skipped a beat. "How wrong what was?"

Rory looked up at him for the first time in a while. She shook her head, a small smile playing across her lips. "Oh no, I'm not going to tell you. Ha ha, you, Tristan Dugrey, are the last person I'd tell that I slept with Dean."

"You slept with him? After he was married?"

Rory laughed. "Whoopsies."

Tristan took her empty margarita glass away from her, and stuffed the rest of the alcohol back into the mini bar. He poured Rory a glass of water; he was a little scared of her drunken state.

"You know I really still loved him," Rory said, at length. "All this time and I never got over him. I thought I was happy with Jess, but he just hurt me so bad when he ran away. And then this year when he showed up again, telling me he loved me, asking me to go away with him, he just wasn't enough for me anymore. I just don't know why I chose him over Dean. Dean's just so, so…"

"Adulterous?"

"No!"

Tristan laughed slightly, but he couldn't help looking at Rory in a new way. This wasn't the girl he knew, this drunk girl sitting in front of him, speaking of adultery. He didn't like the change in her.

Besides, he thought, she deserves better than this. Dean was the reason she had run away to Europe, the reason she would seem so far away at some times. He made her think that she loved him all over again, got her to believe it so deeply that she slept with him and didn't even regret it. Tristan sighed softly. No, he decided, Rory deserved much better than that.


	7. Bed and Breakfast

Disclaimer: Nope, Gilmore Girls still isn't mine, and neither are the characters or places.

Song References: _Fortunate Fool_ is a Jack Johnson song on his album _Brushfire Fairytales._

A/N: Thanks again for your super duper reviews. They made me happy even though it's hot and I'm sunburned and crabby. This one isa little short...I hope you enjoy.

**photobooth romance:** Hello again, thanks for your review. About the Rory being in love with Dean: Rory _thinks_ she's in love with Dean. She said so during the Season Five finale when they slept together and she told Lane before she left for Europe with Emily. But is she just caught up in it all? I mean, I think we all doubted that she was truly in love with this guy even while she was saying it on the show. But she does think she is, it seems to be the only thing that justifies her actions. So we'll just have to see where her confused little heart leads her...

Chapter Seven: Bed and Breakfast

She knows the world is just her stage  
And so she'll never misbehave  
She gives thanks for what they gave her  
Man, they practically made her  
Into a mmm

She's the one that stumbles when she talks about  
The seven foreign films that she's checked out  
Such a fortunate fool  
She's just too good to be true  
She's such a fortunate fool  
She's just so mmm  
--Jack Johnson

"Well good morning Mary."

"Ugh, it's too early, go away."

"Au contraire, it's twelve in the afternoon."

"Yes, but we went to bed at five in the morning. That means that I only got nine hours of sleep."

"Seven."

"Ugh, even a better reason to make you get out of here so I can go back to sleep."

Tristan crossed the room and set the tray of food he was carrying on the foot of her bed.

"How did you get in here?"

"Your grandmother."

"What ever happened to privacy?"

"Come on, I brought coffee for you Mare."

Rory opened one eye.

"Or maybe I should call you Maggie."

"Maggie?"

"I mean, Mary doesn't exactly suit you anymore."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Rory asked groggily.

"Well, when I met you, you were young, sweet, innocent, a _virgin Mary, _if you will."

"Thank you for the definition, but I think I figured out the story behind your dumb little name a long time ago."

"Ah, long sentences, you're waking up."

"Just hand me the coffee."

Tristan obliged and continued. "But now I can't really call you Mary anymore, being that you are no longer a virgin."

"What?" Rory cried, fully awake now.

"Don't act so incensed Maggie. I'm simply stating the facts. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Hell, I haven't been a virgin since-"

"What did I tell you last night?" Rory asked sharply, interrupting him.

"Hmm, the real question is was your precious little bag boy a virgin when he got married, or was the whole little affair just slipping back into old habits."

"Oh my God," Rory whispered, leaning back against her pillows, covering her face with her hands.

"I guess the particulars don't really matter for the purpose of this conversation," Tristan added. "Whether it was a first time thing or just getting back together sex, it makes you more of a Mary Magdalene than a Virgin Mary. But I find _Magdalene _to be a bit of a mouthful, so I think I'll just call you Maggie."

"Why are you calling me Magdalene?"

"Were you too busy thinking of Dean to be following my explanation?"

Rory ignored his comment about Dean. "I just don't understand why you're calling me Mary Magdalene. Didn't you read the Da Vinci Code? It turns out that she wasn't all that bad."

"I am open to that possibility. However, for arguments sake, we'll use the age old interpretation of her character and I'll just call you Maggie."

"No!"

"Mags?"

"Magdalene's first name was Mary too you know."

"So you want me to call you Mary?"

"I want you to call me Rory, but if you must give me a nickname, I prefer Mary over Maggie."

"How about Mary Mags?"

"No!"

Tristan moved from the edge of the bed and settled next to her against the pillows. He picked up her plate of bacon and began munching happily on the crispy strips. "So who's Jess?" he asked as he chewed.

Rory sighed. "I don't want to talk about any of this with you."

"If you don't tell me I'll just bug you forever."

Rory sipped her coffee and considered his threat. She believed in the validity of the statement. "I dated Jess in my senior year."

"So you broke up with Dean for him?"

"Dean broke up with me _because _of him."

"Ah, so he caught you cheating."

"He didn't catch me, no."

"But you did cheat."

Rory glared at him. "Mary, Mary, Mary," Tristan said, shaking his head. "You really aren't all that sweet after all."

"I just kissed him once."

"I think I'm sensing a pattern here," Tristan said, reaching for a slice of toast. "You date Dean, you kiss me--"

"We were broken up!"

"-and then you ran away. Then you get back with Dean, kiss Jess, and let me guess, you ran away?"

"It was a mandatory summer retreat for the Chilton student body representatives."

Tristan laughed. "Then Dean figures out you cheated, dumps you, you hook up with Jess and then cheat on Jess with Dean?"

"No," Rory said coolly. "Jess left town without saying goodbye and I was alone for a year. Then they both came back into my life at the same time and I chose Dean over Jess."

"So you chose to cheat, again. And then you ran away to Europe."

"You're making me sound like a slut who cannot handle her problems."

"You said it, not me."

"Tristan!"

"And I like to think that I started it all. After all, I was the first person you cheated with."

She shot him another glare. "And you know what," she said, jerking the plate out of his hands, "stop eating my bacon!"


	8. A Friend

Disclaimer: I do not own the TV show Gilmore Girls or any of the characters or places associated with the show. I also do not own the song X&Y by Coldplay.

Quote References: X&Y is by Coldplay and can be found on their album X&Y

A/N: Another short chapter, I'm so sorry. Thanks again for the reviews!

**photobooth romance:** ahh, you're wish will be granted...soon, I promise.

Chapter Eight: A Friend

I dive in at the deep end  
She become my best friend  
I want to love you but I don't know if I can  
I know something is broken and I'm trying to fix it  
Trying to repair it any way I can  
-Coldplay

"A doctor?"

"Well I already have quite a bedside manner."

"Ugh, Tristan, stop. I thought you were being serious."

"I am."

"About the bedside manner or about spending years in med school?"

"I've really always been fascinated with medicine. I practically lived on the Discovery Health Channel when I was younger."

"Uh huh."

"Well if you don't even believe me," Tristan said, swirling the beer in his beer bottle, "then how can I expect my parents to?"

"You never told them? What do they think you're majoring in?"

"As long as I pass my classes and stay out of too much trouble, they don't pay attention."

"So they're paying tens of thousands of dollars and they aren't interested in what it's going towards?"

"Its pocket change to them," he answered with a shrug of his shoulders. He took a long sip of beer. "But when I tell them, they're not going to take it well."

"Why not? That's an admirable career."

"But I'm not following in my father's footsteps. I won't be able to run the company I will inherit."

Rory nodded, understanding the workings of the insurance world. A career in medicine leaves little time to worry about numbers and claims. "So you're the dreaded black sheep of the family."

Tristan was silent for a minute. Rory watched him as he stared out the window; she assumed he was bothered by her last statement.

"Did I ever tell you about my brother?" Tristan finally said.

"You mentioned him once."

He nodded and ran his hands through his hair. "Mason's the real black sheep of the family. He's six years older than me, but he took off the day he turned eighteen. I've only seen him once since then. He visited me when I was down in North Carolina; I guess he was proud that I was following in his rebellious footsteps." Tristan shook his head slightly and turned back to Rory for the first time in minutes. "I got a letter from him about a year ago. He's been traveling the world, hitchhiking, living on the streets, meeting eccentric people from anywhere you can dream of. He's financially independent, dirt poor, but independent. His letters always urge me to join him, to find him somewhere, to share in the adventure. But I'm too dependent on my parents to do that," he fingered his diamond studded watch absentmindedly. "I'm too used to this life."

"He sounds a lot like my mom," Rory said. "She ran away when she was seventeen and has tried her whole life to keep me away from all this."

"So why are you here?"

"It's like you said," she answered, "it's just easier this way."

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Rory had fallen asleep an hour ago, but Tristan was still awake, lying by her side, watching her. Her cheeks and lips were rosy, her skin smooth and fair. The realization that something was changing between them had hit him hard tonight, and he had been unable to tear his eyes off of her since that moment.

For the first time in their years of acquaintance he felt like her confidante. She had not been angry that he teased her about Dean, she had merely shrugged it off with good nature. He had never talked to anyone about his brother before. It was a personal subject; his absence still ran deep with Tristan. But Rory understood, and didn't judge him for his cowardice, for his longing to take the easy route. After all, she was by his side at this very moment, doing the same thing.

Slowly, he leaned over and touched his lips to her own. She didn't stir. Tristan got up and walked towards the door, looking back to her once before leaving their room and going upstairs, back to where Shelly was waiting for him.


	9. Him, Her

Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls or the song "Cry Freedom"

Quote reference: "Cry Freedom" is by the Dave Matthews Band and can be found on their album Crash. (If you have it, put it on right now, it really suit's the mood of this chapter!)

A/N: All right...you survived my short chapters, and here is a longer one for you. I hope you enjoy it. As always, your reviews are the best part of my day!

Chapter Nine: Him…Her

Slip away  
In this room stood a little child  
And in this room this little child  
She would remain  
Until someone might decide  
To dance this little child  
Across this hall  
Into a cold, dark, space  
Where she might never trace her way across this crooked mile  
Across this crooked page  
Cry freedom, cry  
From deep inside where  
We are all confined  
Till we wave our hands

-Dave Matthews Band

It had been exactly one month since that night. Rory swirled the wine in her glass, thinking about Dean. She felt empty, her body heavy. The deep sadness was almost unreasonable, but she felt it none the less.

She could hear the murmur and activity of the charity benefit from the main room behind her. But as it was, she was sitting alone at the bar, unmissed by her grandmother and the rest of the DAR.

Where was he right now? Saturday night in Stars Hollow--Saturday afternoon with the time change. Maybe he was working. Was he still doing construction? Where was he working now that the Dragonfly was done? Was he still with Lindsay? Was he sitting now, thinking of her, waiting for her to come home?

"No te gusta la fiesta?"

"I don't want to talk Tristan," Rory replied, not turning around to face him.

"You're missing an amazing evening," he teased. She was silent. "Mrs. Albright just paid a fortune for some old chair at the auction because she forgot about the Euro-American dollar exchange rate. Mr. Albright's face was priceless."

"They can afford it," Rory mumbled.

Tristan stood, hands in his pockets, examining her with narrowed eyes. He couldn't see her face, and he suspected she was hiding from him on purpose. Was she crying? He slid onto the stool next to her. She turned her head the other way, making Tristan smile.

"What's wrong Ror?" he whispered.

She shook her head, took a sip of her wine, and said softly, "It's nothing, I'm just being stupid."

"Will you let me be the judge of that?"

"No."

"So you won't tell me?"

"No."

Tristan signaled the bar tender. "Quiero beber una cerveza, por favor." The bartender slid the beer across the counter, and Tristan took a long pull.

Rory watched, looking a little disgusted at his cocky Spanish, but she looked down again when he turned his attention back on her.

"If you won't tell me, then can I guess?" She shrugged. "Let's see… you're thinking about Dean."

"Aren't you quite the Sherlock Holmes."

"So what's making you look like you're going to cry any minute now?"

"Listen, you know who this is about, isn't that enough?"

"How can I make you feel any better if I don't know exactly what's bothering you?'

"What makes you think I need you to make me feel better?"

"Isn't that what friends do?"

Rory shrugged and finished her wine. The bartender poured more. They sat in silence as she finished her third glass, Rory thinking, Tristan waiting for her to drink enough to tell him what was on her mind. In the main room they could hear the clinks of china; dinner had begun. Still they sat in silence.

In the middle of her fourth glass, she broke.

"How could I just run here, and leave him? God, he left his wife for me, and I didn't even have the decency to tell him I was leaving for the summer. What kind of person does that?"

"I'm sure he has found out where you went. You live in a small town."

"He must think I freaked out and that I don't love him. Why else would someone run away? He was going to leave his wife for me!" She drew in a shaky breath and bit her lip, but the tears fell anyway. Tristan watched her with a twinge of pity.

"I want to go home," she said softly, standing up.

Tristan stood too, and put his hand on the small of her back. "Come on, I'll take you."

"No," she said softly. "I want to go back to Stars Hollow."

"To see Him?"

Rory looked up into his eyes, and saw them examining her own with a look of understanding and sympathy. She lost what little composure she had left and leaned into his chest, sobbing out the month of pent up emotions onto his silk tie. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his lips on the top of her smooth brow.

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Shelly stood, frozen, in the doorway. What she had been thinking for so long was being confirmed by the way he was holding her; he had never held Shelly like that.

Slowly she closed her eyes and turned away from their interlude. As she walked back through the crowded reception hall she couldn't understand why she felt so empty, so tired, so alone.

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Rory entered their room and silently laid down on the bed. Tristan closed the door behind her and crossed to the small desk in the corner. He opened the drawer and found the stack of complimentary stationary as well as a pen.

"What are you doing?" she asked groggily, her head already beginning to pound from the wine.

"Write him a letter."

"I don't want to write him a letter," she argued.

Tristan tossed the supplies on the bed. "It's the only thing that will make you let go. Trust me."

"And what makes you the big expert?" she asked sarcastically.

Tristan simply lie down next to her without responding to her question. His mind drifted to the box in the back of his closet in Hartford. "Just try it."

Rory picked up the pen reluctantly. "What am I supposed to say?"

"Write what you feel."

She began to write with an exasperated sigh. Tristan scooted closer to her and read along as she wrote. He stopped her almost immediately.

"What?" she asked.

"Dear Dean?"

"What's wrong with that?"

"The alliteration of it is so…cheesy."

Rory rolled her eyes. "I can't help it that his name happens to start with the same letter as a common salutation."

"Yah, but just say it, _Dear Dean._ It sounds too cutesy."

Rory balled up the paper and threw it towards the trashcan, missing by several feet. She turned back to her paper, and resumed tapping her pen for a minute or so while Tristan stared at her expectantly.

_Dean, _she finally wrote. Tristan nodded slightly in approval.

_Dean,_

_I'm sorry about everything that happened. We shouldn't have done what we did, and I shouldn't have run away. _

She glanced up, saw Tristan's face, and balled up the sheet of paper.

"I'll work on it," she promised.

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There was a window and by it stood  
A mirror in which  
He could see himself  
He thought of something  
Something he had never had but hoped would come along  
Cry freedom, cry  
From deep inside  
Where we are all confined  
While we wave hands in fire  
Wave our hands

How can I turn away?

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Tristan looked at the mess that surrounded him, surprised by the scene. He looked around at the piles of clothes thrown on the bed, the suitcases all open on the floor.

Shelly walked into the bedroom, carrying the last of her clothes from the closet. She noted Tristan's blank expression, but walked right past him. She tossed her load half-hazzardly into the waiting suitcases, and was proceeding to scoop another pile off the bed when she spoke.

"Well?"

"Well what," he replied, his voice calm and untroubled.

She stared at him then, taking her first good look at him in months. And in that moment she hated him, the way he leaned, hands in pockets, so casually against the door frame, expression absent from his face.

"I can't do this anymore Tristan," she said softly, her hatred softening as she transferred it onto herself. "I can't sit here and watch you be with Her."

"I'm not with her," he replied.

"Do you love her?"

"I don't know."

"Do you want to love her?"

Tristan met her inquiring gaze and held it steady for a moment before dropping his eyes to the floor. Shelly nodded slowly and resumed packing, but she put her things in more neatly now. After several silent minutes she finished zipping the last suitcase.

"Where will you go?"

"I think I'm going to go to California, maybe stay with Makaih."

Tristan recognized her retaliation, but was unfazed. It really didn't matter to him if she went off to her ex-boyfriend.

"So are we over?" he asked, trying to swallow the glimmer of hope that rose inside of him.

Shelly shrugged. "I'm not ending it," she answered. "But I'm not going to live in a fantasy world any longer. You don't like me, I get it. I'm not going to sit around waiting for you to. I'll see you in September."

Tristan moved out of the doorway to allow her to pass. He did not kiss her goodbye.


	10. Maybe It's Right Tonight

Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls, or any of the characters or places associated with the show.

Song reference: Let Go is performed by Frou Frou and can be found on the Garden State soundtrack.

Chapter Ten: Maybe it's Right Tonight

So, let go, so let go  
Jump in  
Oh well, what you waiting for?  
It's alright  
'Cause there's beauty in the breakdown  
So, let go, yeah let go  
Just get in  
Oh, it's so amazing here  
It's all right  
'Cause there's beauty in the breakdown

--Frou Frou

"I can't believe I came here with you."

Tristan sat down, his fresh drink already half empty. "Well we had to celebrate."

"Your fiancée just left you for another guy, and you're down here drinking away as if nothing happened."

"Isn't that what alcohol is for, to forget all your problems?"

"You know what I mean Tristan. She's been gone what, a day, and you're already in a hot crowded club just waiting to dance with one of those scantily clad women?"

"What better way to deal with a break up than a night of meaningless sex?"

Rory grabbed her drink and sat back angrily. "You disgust me."

Tristan just shrugged and did a shot of tequila. "Try some, you'll feel much less-"

"Choose your words carefully."

"-uptight."

Rory rolled her eyes. "I'm fine thanks."

Tristan sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Come on, this is a celebration, why do you have to be like that?"

"Like what?"

"So angry, and preoccupied. Can't you ever just have fun?"

"I have fun."

"Tell me one time this summer that you felt relaxed and excited about something."

"I enjoyed the Museo del Prado."

"That doesn't count," he said.

"Why?"

"Just try again."

"I have nothing to prove to you Tristan," she said, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.She knew as well as he did that he had a valid point. They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the people dancing in the center of the small room, listening to the steamy Latin music pounding through the speakers.

"Come on, you wrote the letter. You've spent your whole vacation brooding over this jackass. You're young and in Europe, you should at least try to have a little fun."

He saw the struggle in her face, saw how he was winning her over.

"Sometimes you just need to let go."

He pushed the shot glass towards her. With a sigh, she took it, and with one fluid movement, she tipped her head back and emptied her glass. Tristan smiled.

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Tristan didn't know how he had managed it. One minute they were sitting consumed in their own problems, and the next, she was letting him lead her onto the crowded dance floor.

He felt her hot breath graze his cheek, causing his nerves to stand on end. They swayed to the music, ever closer until there was no space between them. Her body felt good pressed close against his, and he could feel every curve of her body against his own.

He was slipping, and he felt it, felt the way his heart was racing and surges of energy were washing through him. He felt himself fall and as he landed he placed his hand on the small of her back and pulled Rory just that much closer to him, reveling in the feeling of their swaying bodies.

Her eyes met his, and he began to lose himself in the intensity of her piercing blue eyes, not closing his own until her eyelashes fluttered down as he closed the almost non-existent gap remaining between them. As their lips met, he felt his blood surge through him. She deepened the kiss, and once again he was falling away, into a deep oblivion.

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Tristan unlocked the bedroom door and allowedRory to enter before him. She tossed her heels onto the chair at the desk and collapsed on the bed. She had been silent for almost half an hour, but Tristan didn't mind. It was a comfortable silence; they were both lost in their own thoughts. He was trying to calm the unsettled nerves racing through his body, and she--she was just sorting things out.

"Do you want anything to drink?" he asked, pulling open the mini-bar and taking a beer for himself.

Rory smiled. "I'm just starting to sober up."

"Exactly."

She smiled softly, but shook her head. Tristan, following her example, put the beer back and closed the fridge.

"Thank you, Tristan," she said softly.

"Am I really that bad a drunk?"

She merely shook her head again. "No, thank you for tonight. It…got me out of my head for a while. I guess I really needed that."

"You've kind of been in a bad place the past few nights."

"Well, DAR functions are not the best places to brood."

Tristan lie down on the bed, next to her.

"Are things really over between you and Shelly?" Rory asked quietly.

"She went to her ex-boyfriend in California. She said she wasn't ending it, but I don't want to deal with it anymore. He can make her happy, I can't do that for her."

They lie together in silence for a long time. Tristan looked over at Rory, her cheeks were rosy and her eyes closed. She seemed to be in a peaceful sleep.

He thought again of their kiss, and smiled to himself. "You didn't run," he whispered.

A smile spread across Rory's lips. "I don't _always_ run. You came up with that, not me."

Tristan smirked, not at all embarrassed that she had heard him. "Well, it was a good kiss."

She opened her eyes. "It was a very good kiss."

The suggestion in her eyes was almost palpable. Tristan gently pushed himself on top of her, and kissed her again. Her hands found their way to the clasp of his belt as his turned out the bedside lamp.


	11. Clarity

Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls, the characters, or the places. Sorry.

Song References: Clarity is a John Mayer song which can be found on his album Heavier Things.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews. I'm glad that you guys like where this is going :)

Chapter Eleven: Clarity

I worry, I weigh three times my body

I worry, I throw my fears around

But this morning, there's a calm I can't explain

The rock candy's melted only diamonds now remain

--John Mayer

Rory awoke from her light sleep and felt Tristan's body next to her. She lie still. She needed a moment to process what she had just done. Tristan. She closed her eyes and turned onto her right side, away from him. She needed some room to think.

Tristan. She had just slept with Tristan. Was she happy? Well, she didn't feel any regret or sadness. Did that mean this was a good thing, that she had actually been wanting this all along? Or was she really just such an impetuous person that she always found herself in an unexpected heated moment, like with Dean?

Dean. A month ago Dean had been the one in her bed. They would have been listening to _The Candyman_ right about now. Was it playing anywhere? Is that song ever on the radio? Was there someone in the world watching _Willy Wonka _right now

Rory chastised herself. She had made her choice when she left Stars Hollow. The only way she could deal with her relationship with Dean was by putting some distance between themselves. And what created more distance between people than a man on the side?

She scolded herself again. Where were these thoughts coming from? Why couldn't she stop asking herself all these questions?

She turned over again, and the movement caused Tristan to stir. He pulled her into his arms. Rory hesitated for a moment, but then gave in to his embrace. This was a good thing, she decided. She stopped questioning her judgment and accepted Tristan. This was right.

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The morning sun shined brightly through the windows, waking them both up. Tristan opened his eyes and smiled at Rory. She yawned and shivered. "Cold," she whispered, in her groggy morning voice.

Tristan nodded, and threw back the heavy comforter only to feel the frigid hotel air run over his skin. He walked to the thermostat across the room, and Rory admired how he made no attempt to hide his nakedness.

"Hurry," she said, "all the cold air is getting in."

Tristan obliged, crawled back into bed, and pulled her into his arms.

"I swear there are air conditioner elfs that come in the middle of the night that lower the thermostat in hotels," she mumbled against his chest. He laughed. She sat up a little to look at the clock behind him.

"Ugh, it's already ten thirty. Grandma's going to be worried about me."

"I'm sure she's fine. She would have called your cell phone if she needed you."

"We should really get up though," she said, pulling the blankets around her as she got out of bed.

"What?…Oh…You need coffee."

"Just get up." She began pulling on her clothes. "I guess I'll have to go back upstairs to change," she said. After a moment of thought she added, "We probably shouldn't be seen leaving together, so I guess we should just meet downstairs."

"How OC."

"What!"

"You know, when Julie Cooper was meeting Luke at that motel, the Seabrook, I think, and they would sneak out."

Rory, balancing on one foot as she pulled on her heels, paused. "You watch the OC?"

"On occasion…"

"Eew."

"Eew what?"

"I just slept with a guy that watches the OC."

Tristan smirked. "That bothers you?"

"My mother doesn't even watch the OC."

"No?"

"No."

"If I had mentioned it last night you wouldn't have taken advantage of me?"

"I did not take advantage of you."

"Well, I had just been abandoned by my fiancée."

Rory glared at him. "You started it."

Tristan raised his hands in defense. "I was just kissing you. If memory serves me you were the one that-"

"Either way, you can hardly say that I _took advantage_ of you."

Tristan shrugged. "So if tonight I tell you that I happen to own both of the Spice Girls CDs…"

"Huh, that's weird," she said, pulling on her other heel.

"What is?"

"I think I just went temporarily deaf."

Tristan smirked and she smiled before she turned and left the room.

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Rory was happy, happier than she had been in a while. She sat at the breakfast table, pushing her eggs around with her fork, trying not to smile.

"So where were you last night?" Emily asked, sipping her coffee.

Rory tried to clear her thoughts and ate a forkful of eggs as she refocused. "Tristan needed a friend last night," she said, settling on a vague answer.

Emily, looking interested, sat up a little. "Is everything alright?"

Rory nodded. "He's fine, but Shelly left him last night."

Her grandmother set her teacup down, and it clattered loudly against the saucer. "She what?"

Rory shrugged.

"What happened?" Emily asked, leaning in towards Rory.

Rory thought for a moment; she felt a little guilty for feeding her grandmother the gossip. But at least it was keeping her off the more important track…

"Things just weren't working out," she answered vaguely.

Emily sat back, apparently satisfied. They sat in silence as Emily continued sipping her coffee, thinking about the latest gossip straight from her granddaughter; she liked being the first in her group to be in the know. How Millie Jones would be envious!

As the waiter came around and poured her another cup of coffee, Rory noticed Tristan walk into the room. She followed his confidant stride as she sipped the steaming brew. How could she have been so repulsed by him in high school?

His eyes met hers. It had been good.

He smirked. It had been _really _good.

He passed her, his finger grazing her arm as he brushed past her, sending tingles up her through her body. It had been _really really _good. Way better, in fact, than with Dean. But Dean had only been with two women; Tristan had been with--well, Rory didn't want to think about the vast numbers of women. But he was definitely more _experienced._

"Well, he doesn't look too devastated," Emily noted, once again pulling Rory back into the dining room. Rory didn't respond. "Well," Emily continued, "I guess sometimes people just need a bit of a change."

Rory nodded in agreement. Yes, change was a good thing indeed.


	12. Opposition

Disclaimer: I still don't own Gilmore Girls, the places, or people. 

Song References: Dumb is a Nirvana song that I found on their Greatest Hits Album. It's not mine. Don't hate me.

A/N: sorry that I didn't update for two days. Things have just been way too busy for me lately, and I didn't have the chance to post the latest chapters. Well, here is twelve. And I want to apologize for any fluff in the previous chapter, and there might be a little in this one (conversation) but it serves a purpose. I promise. Thanks as always for the reviews. Enjoy.

Chapter Twelve: Opposition

I'm not like them

But I can pretend

The sun is gone

But I have a light

the day is done

But I'm having fun

I think I'm dumb

Or Maybe just happy

-Nirvana

Tristan was happy. He felt at peace with himself for the first time in years. He whistled to himself as he strode down the hall, confidently thrusting the electronic key into the door. It beeped in affirmation and Tristan swung the door open. His song died as he noticed his parents seated on the sofa, waiting for him.

"Where's Shelly?" his mother asked.

Tristan shoved his hands in his pockets, his body tensing involuntarily. He remained silent.

"Where is she, Tristan?" his father asked, his voice firm and demanding.

"She left," Tristan answered coolly.

"When?"

"Last night."

His mother's lips grew thin. "Where did she go, Tristan?"

He shrugged. "Home?"

His father stood up, his face red and his eyes blazing. "Where is she Tristan?" he yelled.

"I already told you, I think she went home."

"You THINK?"

"She mentioned something about California and a guy named Micah or Mikaih or something."

"Tristan Alexander Dugrey, your fiancée just left you, and you don't even know where she went?"

"Well, quite frankly Dad, I don't really give a damn."

"Do not use that tone with me," he snapped.

Tristan took a step closer to his father, his heart racing. "I'm not a little boy. I can say whatever I want."

"You can't just let Shelly go without talking this over first."

"Look around, Dad," Tristan said, gesturing around the suite. "You're too late."

"You had no right, Tristan," his mother chimed in.

"No RIGHT? She's MY fiancée, not yours! This is MY relationship with Shelly. It may be your business deal, but it is my relationship, and I will not let you stand here and yell at me because my girlfriend chose to put some distance between herself and this relationship. As far as I'm concerned, you get no say in it."

"If it wasn't for us--"

"What, Dad? I wouldn't have Shelly? Well, guess what? I don't have her, and I don't want her either."

His father nodded slowly, a strange smile growing on his face. "All you want is that whore that you spend all your time with."

"Don't you dare call her that," Tristan said, his voice low and his eyes piercing his father's.

"You know as well as I do that you shouldn't be down there with her. What kind of marriage will you have if you've already started the affairs?"

"It's not like that," he responded, looking away. He didn't know why he felt that he had to defend himself and this relationship to his father.

"And I think you also know that as soon as this summer is over that girl will be nothing more than another name on your checklist. So you screwed a Gilmore Girl. I would congratulate you, son, but I have to say that you haven't really accomplished anything. Those women have a longstanding reputation--"

"I don't want to listen to this," Tristan said lowly. He turned around and left the room, slamming the door closed behind him.

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"So what does this mean?" Rory asked. They were having lunch at a beautiful outdoor café. The day was hot, the air dry. The heat was putting Rory in a bit of a bad mood.

Tristan shook his head. "They're not going to keep us from seeing each other, if that is what we want. It is what we want, right?"

Rory looked at him through her sunglasses, and the hint or worry that lined his face touched her. She nodded. "We definitely want to keep seeing each other."

He smiled. The waiter came by and refilled their ice tea glasses.

"So Mary," he smirked, "what was your favorite part of the evening?"

Rory sat back in her chair, deciding to play along. "Well," she trailed, " I have to say that the taxi ride through the city at 120 miles an hour was exhilarating."

"And?"

"And I was proud that I could communicate my need for towels to the bellboy in Spanish yesterday before we went out."

"Anything else?"

Rory pretended to think for a moment as she took a long sip of her cool beverage. "The salsa at the bar was incredible."

"Mary, you bruise my ego."

"I think your ego can handle it."

"And what gives you that impression?"

"You are the most cocky and self-assured person that I have every met."

"I have just reason to be."

"And why is that?" she teased.

"You've been to bed with me."

"If you had told me three years ago that I would be here today…"

"Hey, I tried to."

She made a face at him. His cell phone vibrated on the table, and he reached to check the Caller ID. He put it back down.

"I had just reason to ignore your advances," she insisted, choosing not to ask him about the call. She didn't want to be one of those girls. Besides, this was just casual, right?

"Those reasons being…"

"You were rude."

"I still am."

"You never got my name right."

"I still call you Mary." The phone went off again. Tristan glanced at it, and then set it back down on the table.

"You always had Summer glued to you."

"Summer…" he said, trying to trace the face to the name that he recognized. "Was she a redhead?"

"Tristan!" Rory scolded.

The phone went off a third time. Tristan checked the ID window, and flipped it open. "What do you want?" he asked loudly.

Rory looked at him, trying to study his face. He looked angry.

"What the hell are you talking about? You told me that we were…No, listen… I'm not going to….Three weeks? What the hell is there to do in Ireland for three fucking weeks?…No I DON'T care to watch my language…Fine."

He snapped the phone closed. "I am leaving for Ireland in two hours."

"Change of plans?"

He shook his head and took a deep breath. "They really think you are a threat, Ror."

"I'm sure they are just mad about Shelly."

Tristan shook his head and looked at her with a serious glint in his eyes. "They think you are a threat to their plans for me. They know that you're not like the rest of them."

"They called me a whore," Rory said, her voice betraying the mild hurt she felt from the name. "That must mean that I can't be all that different in their eyes."

"The fact that they bothered to acknowledge you at all shows me that they know that you're not like them. They know you are something more."

Tristan sighed and pulled out his wallet. "I need to go pack," he said, tossing some bills on the table. "You'll be in Paris?"

Rory nodded. He leaned over and gave her a tender kiss. "I'll see you in three weeks."


	13. Disillusioned

Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls or any characters or places associated with the show.

Quote References: Wisemen is a song writtne by James Blunt and it can be found on his album Back to Bedlam.

A/N: Thank you again for the reviews. I'm sorry for the dramatic ending of the last chapter, I wasn't aiming to worry you all or give it a dramatic flare. I hope you will come to see that it had a purpose, and it was not a deliberate obstacle to make Rory and Tristan get through. That said, enjoy the next chapter, and as always, your feedback is appreciated.

Chapter Thirteen: Disillusioned

Look who's alone now

It's not me. It's not me

Those three Wise Men,

They've got a semi by the sea.

Got to ask yourself the question

Where are you now?

-James Blunt

As soon as Rory answered the door she was pulled into Tristan's arms and captured by his deep kiss full of pent up longing. He pushed her into the room, never breaking the kiss. The door swung closed behind them. Rory jumped, startled, and pulled back slightly. Tristan's strong arms kept her body pressed against his.

"Hi," she said simply.

"Hi," he returned, a smirk on his face. He began kissing her again, this time loosening their embrace to find the button of her jeans. She let out a slight groan of longing as he kissed her neck. As his fingers moved to the fly of her jeans, she pulled away again.

"My grandmother isnapping in the other room," she whispered. "We can't do this now."

Tristan kissed her again, too eager to be with her to give up so easily. He felt her surrender to his touch and pushed her towards her room, closing the door behind him.

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"I missed you," Tristan said as he ran his finger across Rory's bare shoulder.

"I couldn't tell," she teased.

"Three weeks…"

"There were no redheads with their eye on you?" she asked.

"Of course there were. But none of them were you."

Rory was a little surprised to learn that he had not slept with anyone in Ireland, but she did not let it show on her face. "So the only thing you kissed was the Blarney Stone?"

"Yeah, so I guess I really kissed millions of people, didn't I?"

"Myuck," Rory said. "I can't believe I kissed that thing last year. Paris would have died, she wouldn't have done it."

"Can we not talk about Paris?"

"Why?"

"I really don't want to bring her into this bed. I don't like thinking about her when I'm naked, or when you're naked for that matter."

Rory smiled, and then stretched. "Speaking of, we need to get dressed. My grandmother will be up any second."

"Five more minutes," he whispered before kissing Rory again.

She groaned and pulled away from him. She got out of bed and began sorting their clothes, tossing Tristan's to him on the bed as she pulled on her own.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" he asked.

"Well, besides my date with the bellboy…"

"What?"

"Well, I may have thrown a _voulez-vous coucher avec moi_ joke to someone who just doesn't understand American sarcasm. I think he took me seriously. After that I'm free."

"I was thinking that we could take the train out to the country. We could spend the day in some small town, drink some good wine, eat stinky cheese. It could be fun."

Rory smiled. "I'd like that."

He finished pulling on his clothes and walked to the door. "The train leaves at nine tomorrow morning."

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"This is an incredible croissant," Rory gushed, stuffing another flaky bite into her mouth as they walked down the quiet street.

"You've mentioned that," Tristan teased, "three times."

"But it is _incredible_."

Tristan laughed. "Well, I guess these small town bakeries are all they cracked up to be."

Rory nodded, taking another bite. Tristan looked up at the clear blue sky, appreciating the beauty of the countryside and the summer day. He stumbled over something and his attention focused back down to his feet, just to see that he had tripped on a person sitting on the ground.

"Sorry," he mumbled hastily. He only looked for a moment but he caught the eyes of the man. They were blue, the same as his own.

Tristan stopped walking, and Rory, consumed in her croissant, took a moment to notice that he had lagged behind. Tristan retraced his steps to the man sitting with his back against a small building. He was dressed in a dirty maroon T-shirt and tattered black jeans, his face was dirty and unshaved. He looked as if he hadn't been clean in months.

"Mason?" Tristan asked, causing Rory to turn and silently walk over to him.

The man nodded slowly before breaking out into a grin. He was missing two teeth.

"I never thought I'd see the day," he said, standing up. "My baby brother on foot instead of driving an Audi." Mason pulled Tristan into a hug.

"What are you doing here?" Tristan asked as he broke the embrace.

Mason shrugged. "Just enjoying the countryside."

"How did you get here?"

"How I get all places, I just find myself here."

Tristan nodded slowly, a puzzled look showing slightly across his brow.

"And you?" Mason asked. "You're here with the parents?"

"Well, not _here_ exactly."

"They're in the city?"

Tristan nodded.

"Typical," Mason responded. The bitterness in his voice was pronounced.

"I got your letter a few years back," Tristan offered.

"I'm sorry that you didn't take any of my advice. It disappointed me that you never just took off and left that place."

"It was military school. You can't exactly just break out of there."

"I meant your parents' home."

Rory saw Tristan's jaw twitch slightly as he tried to check the temper that she knew was rising inside of him.

"Who's your friend?" Mason asked, looking at Rory for the first time.

"Hi," she answered. "I'm Rory Gilmore."

He shook the hand that was offered him. "She's pretty," he said, turning back to Tristan. Tristan looked at Rory and smiled. She smiled back at him.

The church bells rang down the street; it was four o'clock, their train left at four fifteen.

Tristan reached into his pocket. "Listen, Mason," Tristan said. "We have to go or we'll miss our train back into Paris," he pulled out his wallet. "Here's my number," he said, writing it down on the back of a business card. "Call me? We'll be in Paris another three days, I can come back down."

"I'm leaving tomorrow."

"Where to?"

"Wherever the wind blows me."

Tristan looked at his brother again, taking in the image of his impoverished and dirty appearance. "Then at least let me give you some money for dinner," he said, offering him four hundred Euros.

Mason pushed his hand back. "I don't want their money."

"I'm giving it to you, they'll never have to know."

"But I'll know. I can't except it. It goes against everything I stand for." Mason answered, fixing his brother with a look of contempt. "Besides," he continued as he reached for the dirty duffle bag that had sat next to him on the ground. "I wouldn't spend it on dinner."

As he picked up the bag and swung it over his shoulder Tristan noticed the scars and cuts on his forearm. The marks of a junkie.

Tristan placed his hand on the small of Rory's back. "Goodbye, Mason," he said shortly before walking back to the train station, gently pushing Rory away from the mess that was his brother.


	14. For You

Disclaimer: I still don't own Gilmore Girls, the characters, or places. Go fish.

Song References: Crying Shame is by Jack Johnson and is on his album In Between Dreams.

Chapter Fourteen: For You

Its such a tired game

Will it ever stop?

Is not for me to say

And is it in our blood?

Or is it just our fate?

And how will this all play out

Upside out of my mouth

And who we gunna blame?

On and on

Its just a crying crying crying shame

-Jack Johnson

"You look amazing, Mare," Tristan whispered as she walked past his table. Her royal blue gown made her eyes stand out, and they danced in the candlelight provided by the chandeliers in the ballroom. She smiled and blushed softly, continuing along with her grandmother to their seats.

It had been two weeks since their trip to the French countryside. In that time Tristan had never mentioned meeting his brother, and Rory didn't press him on the subject. After the silent train ride home, he had seemed fine. She respected his space.

Tristan's parents sat with him at their table, his father glued to his cell phone and his mother downing her third glass of champagne. Neither had spoken to Tristan about the incident in Spain, or about Shelly for that matter. It seemed as though their disastrous argument had staid behind in the Spanish suite when they boarded the plane to Ireland. Tristan was not complaining.

The orchestra started playing waltzes and couples trickled out onto the dance floor. After several pieces, Tristan walked over to Rory's table, bowing politely when he reached her seat.

"What are you doing?" she hissed.

"Would you like to dance?"

"You dance?"

"Ah, I live to surprise you."

Rory glanced at her grandmother, who looked away quickly. She smiled and shrugged. "If you insist."

Tristan helped her to her feet and led her onto the dance floor, his hand gently guiding the small of her back.

Emily watched the couple with interest. She noted the way Rory's head fit so nicely against Tristan's Chest and how comfortable Tristan looked with his cheek rested on her soft, shimmering hair. Emily smiled to herself. She had been hoping, of course, that something like this would happen. But the Dugrey's had their fair share of problems, and Rory would be entering a lifetime of family conflict. However, Emily decided that those things did not matter because she could see the budding romance between the couple, and that was more important than the Dugrey family reaction.

Across the room Jewel Dugrey was watching the young pair as well, but she was feeling much more agitated. Of course she had known that they were sleeping together, but she did not like watching them on the dance floor, their feelings were pronounced and on display for the whole world to see. Jewel felt ashamed and embarrassed. She nudged her husband, gestured to their son, and within five minutes was back upstairs packing up the suite. They would be on the first morning flight back to America.

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Rory woke up to the sound of persistent knocking on the door. No, not knocking, pounding. Someone was pounding on the main door of the suite.

She rolled out of bed, pulling her robe around her. She entered the main room, quietly navigating around the sofas. She was surprised that her grandmother had not awoken from all the racket.

"Tristan? It's four in the morning."

"I'm leaving."

"Good, I'll see you in the morning."

Tristan stuck his hand out to stop her from closing the door. "No, Rory. I'm leaving. In a few hours. My parents have our tickets booked. We're going back to the U.S."

Rory stared at him, her eyes wide and inquisitive. "But…why?"

"My father said something about business, but I'm sure it's more than that."

Rory shook her head. "I don't understand, why do you have to go home with them? Why can't your father just go?"

"They think it's in everyone's best interest to cut the entire vacation two weeks short."

Rory sighed and walked into the room. She lit a candle on the coffee table and settled herself on one of the couches. Tristan closed the door quietly and sat next to her.

"So you're leaving," she said, trying to process the information.

"Our flight leaves at eight."

"Well, goodbye then."

Tristan stared at her, a little surprised by the cold farewell. "That's it?"

Rory shrugged her shoulders slightly. "What more is there to say? You're leaving, I'm staying, so goodbye."

Tristan shook his head. "After everything this summer, that's all you can come up with?"

"What more do you want from me, Tristan?" Rory cried, her voice full of frustration. "You're leaving me here. In two weeks time we would have been saying goodbye anyway."

"It's different," he said quietly.

"How Tristan?" she asked. "How is it different. You are going back to Hartford. In two weeks you will be starting back at Harvard, and I will be at Yale. We're not going to see each other. Two weeks doesn't change that."

"You don't think we have something more than a casual wave goodbye?" he asked. Rory could see the slight hurt in his eyes.

"You have Shelly," she answered. "Even if we did have some great romance I have no reason to believe that anything would change that."

"You don't think I care for you?" He asked.

"I didn't say that."

"You might as well have. What have I ever done to make you think that way?"

"I didn't say that you don't care for me," she said quietly. "It's just that you don't care enough."

"What the hell does that mean, Rory?" he cried. "I have been waiting here for you for months, _years_. Do you really think that _I'm_ the one that doesn't care enough? God Rory, I've loved you since the first fucking day that I saw you."

Rory looked away. She couldn't stand to see the frustration that lined his face.

"But you," he continued, more quietly now, "you never cared for me the way I have cared for you."

"How could I?" she snapped. "You taunted me endlessly in high school. I started to get close to you and then you went away."

"That wasn't my fault."

"Fine," she said. "I'm not blaming you for leaving. I'm just pointing out how convenient it is that every time we start to find something you are the one that has to leave."

"For two fucking weeks Rory. We could make this work if you wanted it."

"And what if I did?" she asked. "Even then you wouldn't leave Shelly."

"You don't know that," he answered.

"Of course I do, Tristan. You can't even ask your parents if you can finish up your vacation. You do everything they tell you to, even if it makes you hate them. You have no desire to break away and do anything for yourself. That is how I know you could never stand up to them and leave Shelly."

"If I thought you loved me, I would leave her this second."

"Don't do it for me, Tristan! Leave her for yourself! God, Tristan. I'm a mess. I came to Europe to try to put distance between my fucked up relationships back home. And here I am, putting myself right in the middle of another one. I thought that we had something easy, Tristan. I'm screwed up. I need some time to figure everything out."

"So why are you trying to get me to commit to you if you don't even want it yourself?"

"I don't want you to commit to me. I want you to do what you really want. I want you to break up for Shelly. Not for me, for you. I want you to find independence and happiness for yourself before you try to find anyone else."

"Independence? You want me to break up with Shelly and end up like Mason? Some fucked up homeless guy with nothing but drugs and bitterness?"

So that is what this is about, she thought. She sighed, and leaned over to place a soft kiss on his lips.

His anger quieted. "What was that for?"

"Thank you for an amazing summer," she said softly as she stood up. Tristan saw the tears slide down her cheeks in the soft candlelight. She slipped into the darkness and into her room. It was the last he saw of her.


	15. Sooner or Later

Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls, the characters, or places associated with the show.

Song References: _Hotel Paper_ is a Michelle Branch song from her album also entitled _Hotel Paper._ Yes, that is where I get the title of my story, so that's not really mine either.

A/N: sorry you hate me about what happened last chapter. But it had to. I think you all knew it was coming. I mean, I clearly stated in the note on the first chapter that this is Rory's secret in the summer between seasons four and five. Sorry to lead you on…

Chapter Fifteen: Sooner or Later

I write mostly on Hotel Paper  
Knowing that my thoughts will never leave this room  
I'd be out of line telling you, "leave her"  
So I lie lonely surrounded by you  
by you

Rory fingered the letter in her hands. It was not good, but it would have to do. She was leaving Europe in a few days, and she did not want the letter to arrive after her, and she did not want to deliver it in person.

Lately I can't be happy for no one  
They think I need some time to myself  
I try to smile but I can't remember  
And I know tomorrow there'll be nothing else

It was three pages long, all written on different hotel stationary. She did not re-read it, she knew it by heart. After all, it was a compilation of the thoughts that she had been thinking all summer.

She thought about the time that Tristan had sat her down and encouraged her to write the letter. How he had teased her for writing _Dear Dean_. God she missed him. It had only been a few days, but his absence forced her to sit down and really deal with the situation with Dean. There were no more distractions to push her problems aside.

And I wanted to be giving you everything that she's not giving  
And I wanted to see  
'Cause I didn't believe what I'd been hearing

It was amazing how here she was, not only struggling to deal with being Dean's other woman, but also being Tristan's. How had she gotten to this point? What she had felt for Tristan was real, and his absence was weighing on her. Rory blinked back tears. She hated the decisions she had made this summer.

You turned out to be more than I bargained for  
And I can tell that you need to get away  
Forgive me if I admit that I'd love to love you  
We both realized it way too late

What if she had just stayed in Stars Hollow this summer? Or found an apartment in Hartford? Then she wouldn't have reconnected with Tristan…

Was this how he felt when she left him? Fresh emotion waved over her as guilt added to her pain.

And I wanted to be  
Giving you everything that she's not giving  
And I wanted to see  
'Cause I didn't believe what I'd been hearing

Maybe this wind blowing in just came from the ocean  
I write mostly on Hotel Paper

God, things were screwed up. But she needed to find closure with Dean. Tristan was gone and now Dean was back on her mind. She had reached the point where she understood that she needed space from it all. She needed to tie up the loose ends in her life in order to breathe.

Rory picked up the phone and dialed her mother's number.


	16. I Won't Be the Last

Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls, the people, or the places.

Song References: Wheel is a John Mayer song that can also be found on his album Heavier Things.

A/N: So you hate me and miss Tristan. I get it, and I apologize. All I can say is that maybe when you're done with this chapter, you should go read some of my other fics. History Repeating and Shoot the Moon are some favorites, so go check those out. And, unfortunately, this is the end my friends. I had a lovely time with you all, and I appreciate your feedback.

Chapter Sixteen: I Won't Be the Last

And that's the way this wheel keeps working now  
That's the way this wheel keeps working now  
And I won't be the last  
No I won't be the last,  
To love her

--John Mayer

Rory ran her hands through his thick, blonde hair. "You need a haircut, mister," she teased.

"I thought you liked my hair when it was longish."

"I thought you were afraid of my grandmother."

"She won't kill me for not having time to get a haircut," he insisted. "Besides, you know how hard it is for me to get away from work on time these days. You of all people know my father's work ethic."

Rory smiled and slowly trailed her fingers through his hair, causing a groan to escape his lips.

"Not when I'm driving," he pleaded playfully. "You are a traffic hazard, do you know that?"

"Well if you had just taken the driver…"

"Martin had a hot date. I gave him the night off."

"A date? With whom?"

"Jeanne."

"The maid?" Rory laughed. "You be careful who you set up, or you'll have lots of little children running around the house soon."

He laughed and rested one hand on her thigh. "Ours, I hope."

"Stop it!" she said playfully. "Imagine how your mother would react to being called 'Grandma.'"

"She'd leave my father for a plastic surgeon."

Rory laughed. "She'd fit right into Beverly Hills."

They pulled up to the curb and rolled through the valet parking line.

"It's crowded," Rory noted, looking at all the cars and valet attendants.

"It's not too late to go home. We could have the whole house to ourselves. We could christen a couple of rooms…"

Rory kissed him softly. "Tempting, but my grandmother is expecting us."

He nodded and opened his door, walking around the car to help Rory out.

"Good evening, Sir," an attendant said, approaching the car.

"Huntzberger," Logan said handing him his keys and a twenty. The attendant passed him a ticket in return.

Rory slipped her black gloved hand through Logan's waiting arm, and together they made their way down the candlelit path into the dance hall.

"You look beautiful," Logan whispered, his eyes admiring the way her deep green dress hugged all the right curves. Rory blushed. "I love you," he whispered in her ear.

"I love you too."

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Tristan sat at the Dugrey table, utterly embarrassed by Shelly's and his mother's gossiping.

"Look at her, she's wearing red. _Red_ of all colors. Is she serious? This is a charity event. It is completely inappropriate."

"Well it _is_ Lynette we're talking about," Jewel answered. She gestured for her husband to refill her wine glass.

"Red is such an obvious color," Shelly said, shaking her head. She reached for her own wine glass, and her engagement ring caught the light, causing Tristan to turn his head. It had been two years and nothing had changed.

"Now, that dress on the other hand," Jewel said.

"Which one?"

Jewel pointed, unabashed. "It shows enough skin to be flattering, but the floor length train adds class."

Shelly squinted across the room. "Wait, isn't that Rory Gilmore?"

Tristan's head shot up.

"And on the arm of Logan Huntzberger, no less!" Jewel added, making no attempt to hide her pleasure at seeing Rory with an escort other than her son.

Tristan stood.

"Where are you going?" Shelly asked, unable to hide the note of concern in her voice.

"Rory and I are friends. I think it would be nice to go say hello."

Shelly stood too, a fake smile plastered to her face. "I'll join you."

Tristan's eyes begged her to stay, but Shelly ignored him. He sighed in compliance.

"Why, Tristan Dugrey. I haven't seen you in forever. How have you been? Still up to your old tricks?"

Tristan shook Logan's hand. "Old habits die hard, my friend," he added.

Rory stood, stunned. Sure, Hartford society was a small circle. They were bound to run into each other sooner or later, but Rory had not expected it to be tonight.

"Rory," Tristan said, forcing his voice to be light. Rory smiled and greeted him, but couldn'tignore the hurt that clouded his eyes.

"You know each other?" Logan asked.

"We went to Chilton together," Tristan answered.

"Ah, that's right. Funny how you both wound up with Trent alum," Logan joked, referring to the rival school in which he had attended. "At least I'm assuming by the size of the rock on your finger, Shelly, that you're engaged to Tristan?"

Shelly nodded and put her diamond clad hand on Tristan's chest.

"When's the wedding?" Rory asked, trying her best to make small talk, but knowing how deeply the question affected her.

"June," Tristan answered, his eyes full of an intensity that Rory did not want to read into.

"Well, it was nice chatting," Shelly said, "But we should be getting back to our table."

"It was nice to see you guys," Logan said.

"Bye," Rory chimed in, stupidly.

Tristan just gave her a little nod and walked away with Shelly.

"Brrrrr," Logan said, walking with Rory over to their designated table. "That was cold."

"Sorry," Rory said.

Logan looked at her. After a moment Rory felt his gaze and lifted her own from the floor.

"We had a thing…"

"I figured."

"It ended badly…"

"As most _things_ do."

Rory sighed, and Logan nodded slowly. "You really liked the guy, didn't you?"

"It was a long time ago, before you."

"You don't need to defend yourself, Ror," Logan said.

"I was screwed up and I thought that we could have had something real," she replied. "But he didn't love me enough to leave Shelly, to defy his parents." She shrugged again. "Like I said, that was a few years ago, and if he hadn't left, I wouldn't have been here with you right now."

Logan stroked her hand with his thumb. "If it makes you feel any better I slept with Shelly a couple of times."

Rory laughed. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Just evening the score, Ace."

Rory kissed him. "What do you guys see in that girl?"

"It wouldn't be very gentlemanly for me to say. Besides, that guy must be a real ass to choose her over you."

"Thank you."

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Tristan was back at his own table, but he could not take his eyes off of Rory. Her hair was longer, curlier, and the bangs on her forehead gave her an exotic air. He watched as she leaned over and gave Logan a soft kiss, and his blood stirred with jealousy. He felt the familiar longing, but it was stronger than it used to be. Was this how it would always be, Rory turning up every few years more beautiful than the last time? But he had made his choice, and he had to learn to accept it. With a sigh he refilled his wine glass. This would be a very long evening.

-El Fin-


End file.
